


Let the Bells Ring

by Tsuki_Amano



Series: 365 Stucky Shots [43]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Not CACW Compliant, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-07 21:06:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6824185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsuki_Amano/pseuds/Tsuki_Amano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His handlers are angry. They call him Soldat, he doesn’t have a name, not anymore. But through all the pain, through all the white noise, he can hear another voice, calling out. “Bucky”, they say over and over again.</p><p>There’s pain, pain like he’s never felt before. Every nerve feels like it’s on fire. There’s nothing he can do, no way he can escape.<br/>The only thing he can do is scream.<br/>So he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A Civil War fix-it to make my soul feel a little better. *Note* The mid-credit scene doesn't happen in my version.

_‘Ring around the rosies,_  
a pocket full of posies,  
Ashes, ashes, we all fall down’.

The children turn around in the circle, faster and faster, until the rhyme draws to a close. They collapse in a giggling heap and soon after, a pair of them pull themselves away from the medley. The taller of the two bids farewell to their friends and throws an arm over the other’s shoulder.

The shorter boy scowls as they walk down the street, “Why’d you make us leave,” he says angrily, “I was having fun.”

“It’s getting late, your Ma’ll have my head served up for dinner if I get you home too late.”

_He says nothing about the worrying flush of scarlet that had painted its way across Steve’s cheeks, what would be healthy on others and was worrying on him._

By the time they reach Steve’s home, a run-down little flat at the corner of the street, Steve looks less likely to keel over and most of Bucky’s fears have faded. His mother opens the door, takes one look at them and ushers them inside quickly.

“Were you playing that game again?” she asks, handing them both a glass of cool lemonade, and wetting a cloth under the tap.

Neither of the boys meet her eyes.

Shaking her head, Sarah frowns, “It’s not a good game boys, that song, it just calls for trouble.” She hands the cloth to Bucky, who for the first time notices the fact that she’s already wearing her uniform, a sure sign that she’s got the night shift.

He gently wipes at Steve’s face, ignoring his half-hearted protests and shushing him before he argues with his mother.

Sarah looks paler than usual, he thinks. Stevie had inherited his disposition from her, she often said wryly when she allowed herself the luxury of an extra shot of whiskey. He’d got her pale, pale skin that burned in the sunlight and her weak lungs that never seemed to want to work as well as they should. But while Sarah was always pale, today Bucky couldn’t help but think, she appeared almost translucent.

Something about it frightened him, _although he’d never voice that childlike thought aloud._

When she leaves to the next room to slip on her work shoes, he waits for a minute before following her. Glancing up she smiles at the hesitant look on his face. “Are you alright James?”

She never calls him Bucky, she along with his own parents are the only people who he allows to use his full name.

He fiddles with the hem of his shirt, uncharacteristically shy for a second before he asks, “You’re ok, aren’t you Mrs. Rogers?”

Laughing, a soft delicate noise that makes Bucky think of sunny days in dense forests, she stands up and places her hand on his head. _He ignores the voice that whispers at the back of his head about how thin her wrists seem._

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me. I’m not going anywhere. Just look after my Steve while I’m gone.”

Before she leaves, she presses kisses to the tops of both the boys’ heads.

Sarah Rogers was a force to be reckoned with, she was as sharp as a nail and never backed down from doing the right thing. The boys sometimes got her to help with their school work because she was so rarely wrong.

Except this time, she had made a mistake.

One week later, Sarah Rogers was diagnosed with consumption. She was admitted to an isolation ward and never discharged.

_Steve and Bucky never played that game with their friends ever again._

* * *

 

His lungs burn as he takes another step, and he doubles over coughing. He knows it’s not possible for him to have an asthma attack, not anymore, but for a split second he feels as though he’s ten again and his lungs are seizing up. Forcing himself to take deep breaths, he readjusts Bucky’s weight on his shoulder and moves forward.

His left eye is swollen shut and his jaw throbs with every breath he takes. The side of his face is sticky with blood and the harsh wind burns the delicate flesh. He’s almost certain that his arm is broken and he finds himself dreaming of a bed and some time to sleep.

But when Bucky lets out a pained moan besides him, he forces those thoughts out of his head.

He needs to get them to shelter, whatever that may be. He’s almost certain Bucky’s going into shock and the temperature is dropping. Soon they’ll lose what precious little light they have and the temperature will fall to sub-zero levels. Once that happens, he doesn’t want to be caught outside.

A shiver runs down his back, making the hairs on his arms stand tall. But this time, it’s not the cold.

He’s not sure how hard he’d hit his head, but for some reason he can’t get an old children’s nursery rhyme out of his head. It plays again and again, turning round and round refusing to leave. In the midst of it, he can hear his mother’s disapproving voice, warning him against singing that song.

They’ve been traveling for another hour before Bucky regains a sliver of consciousness.

“You need to rest pal,” he wheezes out, “Can’t keep going like this.”

“I’ll rest when we find a place to stay the night,” he assures him. Bucky’s lips have started to go blue and his own vision has flecks of black dancing near the corners.

But he won’t give up. He just got his friend back and he’ll be damned if he loses him again without a fight.

“Steve seriously,” Bucky continues, but Steve cuts him off mid-sentence. There’s something that doesn’t quite blend in with the background sounds of the Siberian cold. Above the howling winds and harsh sounds of their own breathing, he can hear the quiet crunch of snow as someone makes their way towards them.

It’s delicate, the footsteps themselves, balanced and poised. Ordinarily, Steve thinks he would never have heard them, there’s something almost, feline, about the gait.

“You don’t appear too surprised to see me Captain Rogers.”

Offering a small smile to T’Challa, he responds, “With all due respect Your Highness, you don’t strike me as a man who’d give up too easily. I’m more surprised you hadn’t caught up to us sooner.”

Holding up his hands placatingly, the ruler assuages his fears, “I come in peace Captain. I will no longer allow myself to be misguided by vengeance, especially vengeance against an innocent man.”

“So you know?”

“Indeed, I have apprehended the man who was behind all these events. He is on his way to SHIELD headquarters as we speak. You’ll forgive me for not involving you in this decision, but I felt you’d wish to be as removed from the organization as possible for the time being. I had a notion that you might have already made your decision.”

“You’re right,” Steve replies firmly, “I have made my choice. I stand with Bucky.”

“An honourable decision Captain. Few men of this day and age would not abandon their comrade, if the whole world stood against him.”

“Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky.”

As he says this, a violent shudder passes through his friend’s body and Steve glances at him. Bucky’s sweating heavily despite the biting cold. Steve tries to draw him closer, share what little body heat he has left.

“I’m fine punk,” Bucky grumbles, “Just getting a bit nippy is all.”

“Your friend needs medical attention.”

“There aren’t a whole lot of places willing to lay out a welcome mat for us right now.” Steve thinks bitterly of his last encounter with Tony, “We’re criminals T’Challa, wanted men. We’ve even been cast aside by those we call friends.”

“I wish to offer you a safe haven.” Seeing the incredulous look on their faces, he adds, “Hear me out. I have caused great suffering to your friend and contributed to a cause which has harmed you. Your friend is as my father was, a victim to violence that he was innocent of. I could not save my father, but perhaps I can save your friend.”

 “Captain, my father believed that it sometimes is difficult to see what the right path is. But often, it is the difficult path that is the correct one.”

Steve contemplates it for a split second more before nodding. This is his best option right now and he feels like he can trust T’Challa.

The jet that they take back to the Wakandan’s refuge is well-stocked with medical supplies and Steve tries to bandage up some of the cuts and scrapes as best as he can. They both pointedly ignore his missing arm, although Bucky flinches when Steve accidentally brushes against it as the plane flies through a patch of turbulence.

Steve manages to get Bucky to keep down some water and dry food, both of which give him back some of his energy. By the time they’re back at the Wakandan base, Bucky’s recovered enough energy to argue with him, which is always refreshing.

“Are you planning to look after your own injuries any time soon punk? Stop scowling at me like that, the wind changes and your face will set.”

* * *

 

T’Challa smiles at Steve as he walks in. While Steve smiles and nods back at him, Bucky stiffens, almost imperceptibly.

“Friend, I mean you no harm.” T’Challa assures him. “I just wished to enquire if you were in need of anything.”

“Thank you,” Steve said gratefully, “But we can’t impose on your hospitality any more than we already have. We’ll leave by the end of the week as soon as Bucky’s healed.”

“But where will you go? There are many who would say that that decision is not wise. That it is not safe.”

“He’s right Stevie. You’re a wanted man because of me, and besides that, you saw how easy it was for Zemo to trigger the Soldier. It’s not safe.”

“Bucky don’t…”

“No Steve. Don’t deny that it’s not the truth. We need to consider our options carefully before we make a move. No rushing headfirst into anything.”

“I feel,” T’Challa says gently, “As though you’ve made a decision.”

Bucky doesn’t meet any of their gazes even when Steve tries to prompt him.

“I just think, that it’s dangerous for me to be around right now. I barely know what the triggers in my mind are, let alone who else might be looking for me. I don’t want to hurt anyone else again. I thought hiding would be enough, because if there’s one thing I knew how to do, it was hide in plain sight. But it wasn’t, and they still found me. And I still hurt you,” he said softly, looking up at Steve, “which is why, I think it’s dangerous for me to be awake.”

Steve feels like he’s been punched. All the air rushes out of his lungs, “What do you mean?” He can’t be saying what Steve thinks he is.

“Maybe I should go under again.”

Steve’s knees buckle, and T’Challa makes to move towards his side, arms ready to steady the man. But Steve just fixes Bucky with a horrified look, gripping the man’s flesh hand tightly in his own.  

“Bucky, that’s….no. You can’t. We just got you back. Going back into cryo, it can’t be the way to fix this. There has to be another option, please I can’t lose you again.”

“Stevie,” he says, his eyes soft… “I just…”

“No Mr. Barnes, although my decisions do not have the same emotional weightage that the Captain’s have, I must agree with him. I do not believe that this is the answer. Although this base is secluded, there is still a possibility of someone finding you. And as you said there are many trigger phrases which can be used against you. And while I would offer you a great deal of protection while you were here, you must understand, that if you were unconscious, you would not be able to fight back.”

“I have a better idea. I have spoken to some specialists in the field for advice on this matter, and they have been most helpful regarding the possibility of a solution. They believe that this unfortunate damage to your mind can be largely re-written.”

Bucky shakes his head, letting his bangs fall over his eyes.

“With all due respect Your Highness, to you and your specialists, it’s not going to be so simple to get rid of more than seventy years of programming from HYDRA.”

“No one said it would simple, however it is possible. HYDRA never imagined it would be possible for you to break through their programming, yet you have defied their expectations in every way. That alone proves that we can break through their efforts. Locking away yourself and your memories, that is only a temporary solution, a temporary fix. But this, this could be a way to permanently end this.”

“Either way,” he says softly, “You wish not to cause Captain Rogers any more pain and suffering, but I assure you, that this course of action will do just that."

The room is filled with silence for a minute, while the pair wait for Bucky to decide. Steve knows that whatever Bucky decides, he’ll follow him to the very end. If Bucky decides to stick with the cryo therapy, then he’d support his decision, however difficult it might be. He’d stay by his side, no matter what.

After what seems to be a lifetime, Bucky lifts his head up.

Smiling, Bucky says, “Well I guess that card is off the table then.” Steve sits down heavily next to him and closes his arms around him in a hug. “I think I just aged ten years,” he says shakily.

“Hey pal, it was just an idea. I’m not going anywhere.”

The conversation’s tired him out, and Steve can see how he fights to keep his eyes open. “You should get some sleep Buck.”

“I’m fine,” and there’s something about the way he protests that catches at Steve’s heart.

“I’ll be here when you wake up,” he promises, squeezing Bucky’s hand.

It takes only a few minutes before Bucky drifts off into an uneasy sleep. Steve never lets go of his hand once. 

T’Challa looks at them understandingly. Steve doesn’t yet know the nature of their relationship. They’d never defined it when they were younger and now, there’s too many other factors to consider. He appreciates that T’Challa doesn’t ask them about it, because in all honesty, he wouldn’t know what to say.

“And you, Captain, what of your wounds? Are you not tired?”

“If Bucky’s ok, then I’ll be fine. The serum will take care of it.” Steve doesn’t think there’s a force on earth strong enough to pry him away from Bucky’s bedside.

“Physical wounds are not the only ones that cause us pain,” T’Challa responds.

Steve just holds on to Bucky’s hand tighter.

 

* * *

 

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	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cold.  
> It’s so cold.  
> All he can feel is ice, plunging through his veins.  
> And then, there’s something else.  
> There’s pain, pain like he’s never felt before. Every nerve feels like it’s on fire.  
> There’s nothing he can do, no way he can escape.  
> The only thing he can do is scream.  
> So he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of a Civil War fix-it.

**_Cold._ **

_It’s so cold._

_All he can feel is ice, plunging through his veins._

_And then, there’s something else._

_There’s pain, pain like he’s never felt before. Every nerve feels like it’s on fire._

_There’s nothing he can do, no way he can escape._

_The only thing he can do is scream._

_So he does._

His handlers are angry. They shout at him, shocking him again. They call him Soldat, he doesn’t have a name, not anymore. But through all the pain, through all the white noise, he can hear another voice, calling out. “ _Bucky_ ”, they say over and over again.

He wonders who this Bucky is, as he hears the voice cry out again and again. The voice is warm, he thinks, and comforting. He wishes the voice was calling out to him, but he’s only an Asset. There’s no one who would come to rescue him. But the voice keeps getting louder and louder.

The Asset remembers someone, a skinny little blond boy who made his heart beat faster. All the pain that HYDRA inflicted on him couldn’t wipe away his memories of that boy, and the Asset knows that he is important. Someone to be treasured. So he holds on to those memories and listens to the voice as it grows louder and louder.

“ _Bucky, wake up!”_

“ **Bucky!** ”

He jerks up with a gasp, swinging his arm wildly in the direction of the sound. He’s thrown off balance and falls over, slamming into a hard chest.

It takes a second, but he recognises his surroundings, “Steve,” he gasps out, “Sorry, I…I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s ok buddy. There’s no need to apologize.”

Bucky can’t help but wonder why no one else is in the room, he’s sure he was making a lot of noise. The sheets are drenched with sweat as are his clothes and as he swipes angrily at his face, he realises that he’s crying.

“The walls are soundproofed,” Steve says, seemingly reading his mind. “T’Challa wanted to give you some privacy.”

Sighing Bucky moves to lie back down, before Steve stops him. “Come on, if you think you can manage it, let’s get you washed up and in a fresh set of clothes.”

“Steve I’m fine, this isn’t the first time this has happened. I don’t need you mothering me.”

“You’re my best friend Bucky, of course I’m going to want to make sure you’re ok. You can’t go back to sleep in sweat drenched clothes, you’ll just get sick.”

He’s ushered off into the bathroom where he wipes off the worst of the sweat. By the time he’s done Steve’s back with a set of clean clothes. Bucky’s hands shake as he tries to pull the clean shirt over his head. He feels the frustration growing by the second, when suddenly a second pair of hands is helping him.

Steve pulls down the shirt and when Bucky looks up at him, there’s no judgement on his face, just acceptance. He can’t help but notice the shadows that have settled below his eyes, and the bruises on the side of his face.

“Did you treat your injuries at all?”

Steve shrugs his shoulders, “T’Challa made sure I wouldn’t die.”

“You’re an actual idiot aren’t you?” Bucky asks incredulously.

“I’ve been told something similar.” Steve says while grinning.

He helps Bucky to his bed, which he finds has been made up with new sheets, all dry and clean. Once Bucky’s comfortable, Steve starts to get up before Bucky grabs his sleeve. “Can you,” he begins hesitantly, “Can you stay?”

Steve’s eyes soften and he smiles, “Of course, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

As Bucky sleeps, Steve thinks over his conversation with T’Challa. Bucky was right, they didn’t know the true extent of HYDRA’s programming and how long it would take to get rid of it. It was going to be hard for Bucky to integrate into society again and Zemo’s stunt was only going to make it harder. He wanted to help Bucky, but he didn’t even know where to begin. When Bucky had a nightmare, and started screaming, he’d rushed to his side without a second thought. But then Bucky had opened his eyes and Steve was terrified. Because for those few seconds, Bucky’s eyes were blank. They were the eyes of the Winter Soldier, and for that short terrifying span of time, Steve had lost his friend again.

He looks over at Bucky who’s turning over in his sleep restlessly. Thinking back to their childhood, he reaches over and cards his fingers through Bucky’s hair, gently sifting through the tangles. The gentle repetitive motion helps to sooth him and Bucky settles down, nestling closer to Steve.

They get through another half an hour of peace before someone knocks at the door to their room. “Come in,” he calls softly, knowing it’s T’Challa, who will be able to hear him.

“Captain,” the ruler greets.

“Your highness,” Steve replies. Something tells him that this isn’t an idle visit.

“I have received intelligence about the whereabouts of your comrades. They are being held in a holding cell by General Ross.”

“What?” Steve’s horrified and from the sharp intake of breath near him, he can tell that Bucky is now awake and has heard the conversation.

“As per the Accords that were signed, those with enhancements who use them against the decisions of the United Nations are to be treated as criminals.” T’Challa looks as angry as Steve feels. But he’s not sure what to do. When he put down the shield, he also put down the mantle of Captain America. He’s not a hero anymore, he’s just _Steve Rogers_.

He says as much to the pair in the room.

“If you’ll forgive me for saying Captain, sometimes the world needs more of a Steve Rogers and less of a Captain America. Your friends, they need Steve Rogers right now.”

* * *

 

He and T’Challa have no problem breaking into the base. For the most part, he’s reserved, focused on the task at hand.

But then he sees Wanda, who’s been placed in a straightjacket with a shock collar around her neck. It’s only T’Challa holding him back that keeps him from finding Ross and ripping him limb from limb. With a little help from Sam, he frees her and lifts her up into his arms.

Steve lets Clint lead Scott out, while he, Sam and Wanda follow T’Challa. He knows Clint can commandeer a quintjet on his own, and Scott has a family to get back to. Before he leaves, he thanks them.

“Honestly Cap, you make it sound so morose. This isn’t goodbye, this is just us taking a break for a bit.”

“It was an honour meeting you Captain!” Scott adds cheerily and Steve grins at him, “It was an honour for me too, Mr. Lang.” Scott looks like he might hyperventilate, and Clint ushers him away, “Come on buddy, let’s go before you say something you infinitely regret.”

On their way back to Wakanda, he says to Sam, “It’s nice that someone still likes me.”

“Don’t be an idiot, man.” Sam replies knocking his knuckles against Steve’s head.

“Is she going to be ok?” Steve asks, shifting his attention to Wanda, who’s still unconscious. She’s pale in a way that worries him, with large dark bruises under her eyes.

“With proper medical care, she should bounce back with no problem. At least physically.”

Sam gives him a look loaded with meaning. Steve knows what an ordeal this has been on her and he wishes more than anything he could take it away, but he knows he can’t.

“How’s Bucky?” Sam asks, not meeting his gaze. “He’s about as good as we could expect,” Steve replies. “He’s alive, at the very least.”

“And Stark?”

Steve freezes.

“Rogers, what happened?” Sam asks, sitting down in front of him. Slowly, Steve fills him on the fight, Zemo and the other soldiers.

“That’s just way above my pay grade man.” Sam says when he’s finished.

“No kidding Sam.”

“So now what?”

“Well, now, I make sure Bucky and Wanda are ok. After that, if there is an after that, Bucky and I disappear. For good this time. The world let go of Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes once, they can do it again.”

“Let’s think of that when we reach that stage,” Sam says uneasily. “And besides there’s one flaw with your plan. _You’re_ not going to make sure that Bucky and Wanda are ok, _we are_. Whether you like it or not, we’re all part of the same dysfunctional family now. That means we all help out.”

“Sam, I can’t ask you to help any more than you already have,” Steve begins, but Sam cuts him off in the middle. “You’re not asking, and you never have. Besides, if I leave you alone, who knows what kind of shit you’ll end up in.”

Back at the base, T’Challa shows Sam to his room and leads Steve to the medical bay, where doctors take Wanda to attend to her. He’s hesitant to leave her, but at the same time, he’s worried about leaving Bucky alone for that long. The other man can sense his unease and nods at him, “Go and check on your friend Captain. I will keep an eye on the girl till you return.”

“Thank you,” he says earnestly, “This is honestly more than I could have ever expected. I can’t even begin to repay you.”

“And you don’t need to. It would be an insult to my father’s memory if I didn’t help you and your friends in this situation. Let your mind be at ease, and go to your friend.”

He doesn’t hesitate much longer before rushing back to their shared room.

Bucky’s sitting propped up in the bed, with his hair tied up into a messy bun. He looks exhausted but still smiles when he sees Steve.

“How’d it go?” he asks.

Steve collapses on the bed next to Bucky, letting him softly pet his head. He thinks it’s more of a motor memory for Bucky than anything else, but for him, it’s a memory of a before. This is what things were like in the past, what seems to be a lifetime ago.

He curls up closer to his friend, making himself as small as possible. He feels the exhaustion in his bones, aching with each breath he takes.

“It could have gone worse,” he says. “Clint and Lang went back to the city, they’ve both got families and kids to get back to. Sam’s here, you’ll probably see him again soon. And Wanda,” his voice cracks as he reaches her, “She’s not in a good state. But T’Challa’s medical team are looking after her. I know I just got back Buck, but I need to head back to the medical bay. I don’t want her to be alone when she wakes up.”

Bucky’s hand doesn’t let up in his petting, but when Steve looks up he catches sight of the thoughtful look on his friend’s face. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

“It’s nothing,” he says. “It’s just, I’m really proud of you, you know. You’ve done right by this team, no matter what anyone else says.”

His face feels warm and he ducks his head. He’s never been able to get used to people praising him, much less when it was Bucky. “I’ve got to go,” he grumbles instead and heads back to the medical ward.

They’ve shifted Wanda to a bed, with the majority of her wounds wrapped up in bandages. Her skin is so pale that it blends in with the white of the crepe bandages and Steve feels another surge of anger at Ross, at the people who’ve done this to her. She’s just a kid, he thinks, she doesn’t deserve something like this.

A doctor walks in, a smartly dressed middle aged woman with a kind face. She smiles at him and explains that Wanda is likely to make a full recovery. “She’s a strong young woman,” the doctor states, “What she needs now is rest. Sometimes, time is the best medicine we can offer.”

She leaves, giving Steve instructions on how to call a doctor or nurse should the need arise.

He’s unsure of how much time passes, his back starts to ache, growing stiff from remaining in the same position and he gently picks up her hand when she starts to turn in her sleep.

He’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t register the door opening and the footsteps drawing closer to him, till a soft blanket is draped over his shoulders. Jerking his head around, he finds Bucky standing behind him, his blue eyes squinting sadly at Wanda.

“Buck, you should be resting, you’ve been through a lot.” Steve says.

“So have you, but you haven’t closed your eyes since we got here. She saved my life pal, and from what I hear, she kept you alive more than once. I owe her so much. I just wanted to check.” _That she was alive_ , goes unsaid.

He hands Steve an energy bar and a bottle of water before pulling up a chair next to Steve. The pair sit in silence and wait, keeping watch.

Steve’s unsure what’s going through Bucky’s mind as his friend looks sorrowfully at her.

“It’s not your fault you know,” he says suddenly.

“I know,” replies Bucky. “But it doesn’t make me feel any less guilty.”          

About an hour later, Bucky drifts off into an uneasy sleep, his head dropping onto Steve’s shoulder. He’s unsure about this new development, but he adjusts himself when his arm goes numb. He notices a pad of paper next to Wanda’s bed.

Letting go of her hand, he picks up a pen and begins to slowly write, so that he doesn’t disturb Bucky.

_“Dear Tony,_

_I’m sorry….”_

* * *

 

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**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't really happy with the initial post I made about this, so I re-vamped it a bit and reposted it. I'm sorry because some of the comments on that were lost and I couldn't reply!
> 
> *Notes*  
> Consumption is another term for tuberculosis, although I'm not sure how common the usage was in the US.  
> The song in the first stanza has many different interpretations, but there is one that cropped up in Western countries towards the mid-to-late 1900s where the song was related to the plague and the bombings in the UK. Although these theories have been debunked, they still wouldn't be something Sarah would want her children singing.


End file.
